Friendly Intervention
by Anne Bowman
Summary: Jack anticipates a reunion. A little bit slashy. *complete*
1. Default Chapter

AN: There will be more. I still don't own the characters, nor do I own Rufus Wainwright's lovely song, "Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk."

~~~~~~~~~~

_cigarettes and chocolate milk  
these are just a couple of my cravings  
everything it seems I like  
is a little bit stronger, a little bit thicker  
a little bit harmful for me_

Four years, in the scheme of things, really isn't very long. For example, I remember being five years old. Then I remember being nine. Did I change? I was still the responsible older brother, the supportive, loving son. Maybe I got smarter, started using bigger words, reading thicker books, adding bigger numbers together, taking them apart with more finesse. But I was still the same person. So why am I so anxious now? Why do I think anything might be different?   
  
Why should anything change, anyway? Why shouldn't I just be happy with the life I have now?  
  
It happened four years ago next Wednesday. Afterward we gradually scattered, for all our different reasons. Fiona had already left; she never came home from Aunt Melinda's, which I still resent, personally, but I decided to put those feelings aside for the purpose of this holiday visit. Annie was happily reunited with her parents at the end of that year she spent with us. She abandoned her attempts to jump-start a recording career and returned to the jungle. I haven't seen her again, and she won't be here this week, but we've kept in touch over e-mail and through letters.   
  
After that last night, the last time I spoke to him, Clu left again, this time for good. And although it probably had nothing to do with me or with his brother, Carey was also just suddenly gone.   
  
I was the only one still standing when the dust cleared, so I left, too. What else could I do?  
  
I wish I didn't care. I wish I could tell you that when I pull into the driveway of my mother's billionth new house tonight, provided I don't get lost, I won't be craning my neck to see if he's there, hanging around teasing Fi or playing some stupid word association game with a half-asleep Carey in the backyard. I wish I could say that when I told him none of it mattered to me, I wasn't lying. But wishes are as random and pointless as conspiracy theories, so I'm driving down the highway planning what I'll say when I see him again.  
  
Not when. If. How do I even know he's coming home?  
  
I'm not nervous. These aren't those stupid proverbial butterflies making my stomach churn. It's just a bout of good old carsickness. Because I don't care. I don't. I had several very nice girlfriends in college. Every one of them was a wonderful, special person in her own right. I didn't pursue anything that you might assume I would pursue after that night before Clu left. Why should I? There was only one person I wanted, even if I couldn't admit that to him, which I believe I never will, regardless of whether or not I see him again this week or any other. Why try to replace him?  
  
So you might ask, if those girls were so special, why aren't you bringing one home? What got in the way? Why couldn't you ever close that particular deal? And if you did, I might tell you to shut up.   
  
All right. I admit it. When I saw Ned's familiar old truck in the driveway of Mom's newest new house, I might have gotten a little dizzy with the anticipation. Maybe I might have even rehearsed my little speech. And just maybe I felt a little bit let down when I discovered only three members of the Bell family were in attendance. But why does any of that matter? I'm here. I made it. I'm surrounded by my family, who adore me, who are thrilled to see me, who I'm thrilled to see. Nothing's missing. Nothing important, anyway.   
  
It will be crucial, however, that I never let on that anything might possibly be wrong. I must pretend that I don't feel anything at all.  
  
Lord knows I'm good at that. I've certainly had enough practice.


	2. 2

AN: More to come. Still don't own anyone, or the song.

_if I should buy jellybeans  
have to eat them all in just one sitting  
everything it seems I like   
is a little bit sweeter, a little bit fatter  
a little bit harmful for me_

It's hard to explain the way everyone looks exactly the same, but different. Fiona's hair is still long, and she's still short, but somehow she's subtly just _become_ older, and I bet even a stranger could tell she isn't the kid she used to be.   
  
Mom and Irene and Ned haven't changed a bit. He actually hugged me when I walked through the door. I wonder if my ribs are broken or just sore. In a way that's actually part of why I told Clu that it could never be more than a one-time thing between us, even if I really wished I didn't feel like I had to say that. But Ned's been my teacher, my mentor, and my father, basically. While I don't think he would have any problem with his son pursuing alternative sexual options, to me it just seems kind of incestuous, the whole thing. Clu is, in effect, my brother, and that's exactly the mantra I repeated to myself every time I took one of those charming college girls out for the evening. I tried to cleanse my mind, wash him right out of my hair, if you will. It never worked.  
  
So here I am, feeling stupid because I actually thought I could see him again and everything could be all right.   
  
After the evening festivities (dinner) I wandered out to the back porch, where I found Carey screwing around with his guitar. "Hey," I said, settling into a lawn chair across from him.  
  
"Hey." Of all of them, he had changed the most. The last time I saw him, he'd practically been an overgrown kid. Even though it had only been four years, and I had decided that four years wasn't long enough to change anything or anyone, he looked old now, like a genuine adult, as if some kind of kid/grown-up barrier had been irrevocably crossed. It was almost intimidating.  
  
"How's it going? I haven't heard from you since"  
  
"Yeah, when I came back to town." He looked up, grinned at me, and I could see the old Carey in his expression. Two years ago, I came back, Fi and I went to his college graduation with Ned and Irene. I got a letter a couple of months later saying he'd decided to move back to Hope Springs. That was the last time I ever heard from him. Maybe it was my fault; I could have made more of an effort to keep in touch. But frankly, talking to Carey usually reminded me entirely too much of talking to his brother.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"It's good, you know. I'm good. I got a job in town, working for that accountant on Ranger Street, you know? I've got my own place. And on the weekends I bartend and play with the band, so, everything's pretty cool right now. How are you?"  
  
"I'm-"  
  
"Wait, man. He told me, you know." He lowered his voice. "About what happened."  
  
"He did?"  
  
"Yeah, right after."  
  
"Oh."   
  
I can't account for the look on my face, not yet having perfected the ability to step out of myself and see it firsthand, but Carey laughed and said, "Dude, chill out. I didn't tell anybody, if that's what you're worried about, and I don't care, personally. I think it's nice."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"It's just a shame you couldn't work it out."  
  
I swallowed, took a deep breath. "How is he?"  
  
"Oh, he's cool, you know."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
He raised an eyebrow. "What are you asking me?"  
  
"Is he, you know, with somebody?"  
  
"Whoa, that's none of my business. I don't ask, he doesn't tell, or if he does tell, I put my hands over my ears like so"--he demonstrated this-"and say, 'La la la la la' until he stops."  
  
"Okay," I laughed. "I don't really care, anyway. It was just one of those things that happens, too much built-up energy, frustration, that whole thing. You know? I've had a lot of girlfriends since I went away. It didn't mean anything." Did I protest too much? I noticed that I couldn't force myself to sound any more enthusiastic about what I said than I truly was. I sat back, settled into the chair, and we sat quietly for a minute or two. "So, what about you?"  
  
"What about me, what?"  
  
"Are you seeing anybody, now that you're a responsible adult who's definitely above bagging groupies for kicks?"  
  
He groaned. "I really don't want to talk about that."   
  
O-kay. Interesting. He strummed a familiar little melody on his guitar for a second, then stopped and asked, "So, have you heard from Annie lately? I haven't heard word one from her since the day she left."  
  
"Really? I talk to her all the time."  
  
"You do?"  
  
"Sure, online, and she writes me letters and stuff. I think we get along a lot better now that I don't have to think of her like a replacement sister, you know?"  
  
"Yeah," he said contemplatively.  
  
"Okay. Well, I'm going to sleep. Later."   
  
"Ciao." He began to play that same melody again as I slid the screen door shut.  
  
I headed for the kitchen, where the adults seemed to have congregated, to express the same sentiment to Mom. I slowed down in the hallway as I heard Irene say, "Is she okay?" Who? Fi? She had gone to bed right after dinner, and she'd seemed abnormally quiet when she was around. I had just assumed that was the New Fiona. Maybe not.  
  
Mom said, "Well, you know, I think she thought it was serious, and then it turned out to be, um, less true than she'd imagined. But she's doing all right."  
  
"Poor girl," sighed Ned. A closet romantic? Who knew?  
  
"I hope this week isn't too rough on her," said Irene.  
  
Hm. Interesting.


	3. 3

AN: More to come.  
  
_and then there's those other things  
which for several reasons we won't mention  
everything about them is a little bit stranger  
a little bit harder, a little bit deadly  
_  
I yawned and stretched, distracted momentarily from my romantic angst by the pleasant comfort of sleeping in my old bed, with my old sheets, my head on my old pillow. Mom had set up my old things in a room I could use when I visited, which I guessed she had hoped would happen more often than it actually had. But then that old comfortable feeling began to remind me of other things with which I used to be familiar and that I wasn't familiar with anymore, that I'd never truly be familiar with again, and I rolled out of bed with a sour expression on my face.   
  
I stomped downstairs but tried to pull myself together before hitting the kitchen. There was Mom, making toast. Carey was at the table as usual, already eating. Fi sat in a chair beside him, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. It was really nice, and for a second I wondered why I had ever wished for something more.  
  
"Good morning," said Carey cheerfully, and then I remembered. God, it was hard to even look at him anymore. They were almost like twins sometimes, just a couple of years apart.  
  
"Hey," I mumbled.   
  
"Rough night?" Mom asked sympathetically.  
  
"No, I slept really well," I admitted. "Thanks for the room."  
  
"Fi, are you okay?" Carey nudged her. "You've barely said five words since you got here."  
  
Mom shot him a warning glance. I wondered why.  
  
Fi didn't look up when she answered. She stared at anything but us: her hands, the empty chair, the wall. "I'm fine. I don't really want to talk about it."  
  
"That's all right," Mom told her, and set a plate of toast on the table. Fi just looked at it.  
  
"So, Ned said that Clu's coming in sometime later today," Mom offered. It was Carey's turn to shoot her a warning look, but this time I knew exactly what the reason was.  
  
"Really," I said nonchalantly. "That's cool. Haven't seen him in a while."  
  
"Yeah, I bet you two will have a lot of catching up to do," Mom smiled. God, she had no idea, did she? Maybe we'd been more successful about hiding it than I'd originally thought we had.  
  
After a short, awkward silence, Carey spoke up again: "I wonder if we'll have any more visitors?"   
  
As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Was it him? She'd said this afternoon, right? Not this morning. It was morning, wasn't it? I hadn't overslept? I swallowed hard.  
  
"I'll get it," Carey volunteered, and I couldn't help but follow closely behind him, as much as I wanted to stay put and not betray myself like this.  
  
He opened the door slowly, like he already knew who would be standing there and was dragging it out for my benefit. Short blonde hair. On a short person. "Jack!" she squealed, and hugged me hard.  
  
"Annie?" I asked in disbelief. "You're really here?"  
  
"Of course!" she giggled, grabbing my hand. "I couldn't wait to see you! We were in L.A., and when I got the e-mail, I convinced my mom to let me come and stay for a couple of days!"  
  
I had forgotten that in person, as opposed to online, virtually every sentence Annie spoke, whether it was a question or a declaration, ended with an exclamation mark. I supposed it was a minor annoyance, and concentrated on being happy to see her. But why had she come?  
  
After Annie finished greeting Mom, Fi, and Carey almost as enthusiastically as she'd greeted me, she dragged me upstairs to my room and closed the door.  
  
I was beginning to get a little scared.  
  
She laughed. "I couldn't believe it, when he told me, I thought, who, Jack? Me? Are you kidding? But we're such good friends. But then I started thinking about it, and the more I thought about it, the more perfect it seemed."  
  
"Slow down. He who?"  
  
"Carey!"  
  
"Told you what?"  
  
"About you."  
  
"And?"  
  
"Me!"  
  
"He told you I liked you."  
  
"Yes. Don't be mad at him, he just wanted you to be happier than you were."  
  
"But-" I paused. It had been a nice gesture on his part, as idiotically misguided as it seemed to me. After all, hadn't I gone to great lengths to convince him that Clu was the exception and not the rule? Hadn't I gone on about those stupid girls I went out with, and how cool it was that I'd kept in touch with Annie? It was a reasonable assumption to make, and a caring thing to do. But now I had to get rid of her.  
  
"Annie," I said gently. "I'm sorry. I just--"  
  
"Well, I know you're surprised to see me, but--"  
  
"Carey got it wrong."  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's--it's not you. I'm sorry. I love you, I really do. But you're, like, my sister. You know what I mean?"  
  
She sat down beside me on the bed and nodded. I couldn't see her face anymore. We both stared forward, at the blank wall.   
  
"I'm so sorry, Jack," she said. "I just thought"  
  
"It's nobody's fault. It was a rational assumption."  
  
She nodded again. I wondered if she would cry. I hoped she wouldn't.  
  
"There's no reason," I continued, "why we can't have a hell of a good time now that you're here, though, is there?"  
  
"No," she smiled.   
  
"Come on," I said. "Let's go out."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"I don't care. Anywhere. The mall. Whatever."  
  
I dragged her down the stairs and out we went.  
  
When we got back later, Mom told me in passing that Clu had called Ned and Irene to say he'd had car trouble along the way and he wouldn't be coming in until morning. It was fine with me. My reaction was almost authentic. By that time my attentions were focused elsewhere. Namely, on helping Carey the way he'd thought he was helping me. And just because he was wrong didn't mean I would be. In fact, since he wasn't lying about his feelings, obviously, not like me, I figured I had a much better chance of being right about what he wanted. I would help him get it. I would help him get her. And then I'd be helping her, too. Carey's attempt at doing a good deed for a friend perceived to be in need had truly inspired me. Annie, suddenly my best girl friend (although I still hadn't told her the truth about Clu) gave me tips on how to talk to her to help her see that the two of them truly belonged together.  
  
After all, I knew I could never get what I wanted, but there seemed to be no earthly reason why Carey couldn't.  
  
I knocked on the door and turned the knob without waiting for an answer. "Fiona? I think we should have a little talk."


	4. 4

AN: My tenses have really gotten messed up. Oh well. Consider the first chapter a prologue, and I'll go back and fix the others later. :)  
  
_it isn't very smart  
tends to make one part  
so brokenhearted  
_  
The door closed quietly as Carey let himself into Fi's room without knocking-a very intimate gesture, I noticed, one that indicated an existing level of trust between them. Annie suddenly appeared beside me as we both surveyed the closed door.   
  
"So you talked to her?" she asked, and without waiting for an answer, plunged forward. "I talked to him. I wasn't, like, totally explicit about what I meant. I didn't think I should just say 'hey, why don't you go hang out with Fi and see what happens?' But I think he got the picture anyway." Giggle fit. Hers, not mine. "So was she into the idea?"  
  
"I wasn't explicit either," I explained. "They aren't children. I can't just tell her what to do anymore. But I have a good feeling about all of this. I think it'll end up working out really well."  
  
"You think they were together before?" mused Annie.  
  
"I have a suspicion," I said mysteriously, and then we fell into a comfortable silence, just staring at the wall beside the door for a while. Finally Annie said, "I don't think they'll be coming out anytime soon." We ended up sitting around in the bedroom I was using; I played video games and she tried to write a song or something. At least, I think that's what she was doing. I tried to block out the noise, but it reminded me of the night before, when Carey had been playing that song I couldn't quite place. Suddenly the melody clicked into its rightful position in my memory, like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle: it was the song Fiona had played after that medium guy visited. There were only a few notes when I'd heard her play it that day, but Carey had been playing more than she'd known of it back then. I smiled not entirely deviously as it occurred to me that Fi probably taught him the song, yet another indication of the apparently extremely close relationship between the two of them. Excellent. I congratulated myself on my killer observational skills and concentrated on the game again, feeling much lighter than I had before.  
  
Unfortunately, my elation was short-lived. We heard Fi's door open and close as carefully as before and one set of footsteps thud down the stairs. I looked at Annie. Annie looked at me. We crept to my doorway and peered into the hallway. The door was still closed. One person was still in there. Why was our attempt to put them together unsuccessful? I tried to remember what I had heard the adults talking about: poor girl, she thought it was going to be more serious than it was, I hope this week isn't too hard for her. Why would this week be hard for her? Was she going to be seeing someone who will remind her of an unpleasant break-up? If it wasn't Carey, if their discussion didn't lead to reconciliation, then did that mean-could they have been talking about her and Clu?   
  
I decided simply not to meddle in my sister's affairs anymore. I didn't want to think about any of it. I guess the look on my face gave away my feelings; Annie didn't say a single word. We just went back into my room and resumed our respective activities until we both fell asleep.  
  
In the morning, I woke up with a pillow crammed under my face to separate skin from carpet. I lifted myself up off the floor and looked around blearily. Annie was gone; the bed, presumably where she'd slept, was made. Thank you, Annie, I noted mentally. I headed downstairs and listened for any telltale signs of a budding or rekindled romance between Fi and Carey, one last hope that my well-intentioned stab at matchmaking or maybe just getting them back together had worked. I heard voices raised in jubilation, but not hers, and it struck me again how much Carey sounded like his brother.  
  
Except Carey really doesn't sound that much like Clu.   
  
I didn't expect our first meeting after all this time to be like this. He was sitting there next to Fi, laughing it up, while Mom and Irene and Carey were making breakfast and my sister was smiling reluctantly at his obvious attempts to cheer her up. (Carey kept sneaking not-so-secret glances over at Clu and Fi. I wondered if it was jealousy. I couldn't keep my mind on that, though.) Annie sat on Clu's other side, beaming brightly at him, as usual.  
  
And there I stood, a disheveled mess, in a t-shirt and sweatpants, unable to say anything normal like hey or how's it going or it's been a while. I just stared. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye but didn't address me and my stomach began to turn. I headed away from the table and pasted on a big fake smile, offering to help the others.   
  
But I didn't want to butter toast. I wanted to run outside and jump in my car, drive twenty miles above the speed limit all the way back to my isolated sanctuary. I wanted him to stand up, throw his arms around me, forgive me for all past and future transgressions. I wanted to tell the world, starting with the seven other people crammed into this small kitchen, that it wasn't just a one-time thing, that I wanted to wake up next to him every morning for as long as we both lived.   
  
Instead, I buttered toast.


	5. 5

_playing with prodigal sons  
takes a lot of sentimental valiums  
can't expect the world to be your raggedy andy  
while running on empty  
you little old doll with a frown_

Clu and I didn't speak at breakfast beyond painfully cordial greetings. After the plates were cleared, I made an excuse to drive into town. Annie volunteered to ride shotgun and off we went. 

"So," she said slyly. "Did you see that?"

"See what?"

"At breakfast!" I looked over at her blankly. "Clu! And Fi!" 

"What about them?" I asked suspiciously.

"Didn't you notice?" She sounded so pleased with herself.

"You set them up?" I couldn't keep the incredulity out of my voice.

She giggled. "Well, Carey helped." Her, I could forgive. She didn't know. But him? I found it difficult to believe that I had been that convincing the other night when I'd insisted I didn't care. "So what do you think?"

"I think it's a bad idea," I said resolutely, and focused on the road. 

She looked hurt, almost like I'd slapped her. "You do?"

"They're not right together."

She didn't respond, just sat back in the passenger seat staring pensively out her window. Whatever. I thought briefly about keeping up the charade, pretending that I thought it was a brilliant match, that it didn't bother me at all. But what was the point? Regardless of my true motivation for expressing that particular opinion, I believed it was true. Great friends, yes. Lovers? No. But I didn't say anything more on the subject.

When we came home later, Clu and Fiona had gone to a movie. Fabulous. I suppressed the urge to go upstairs and pout. Instead I hung out in Mom's living room with Annie, who was thankfully writing lyrics and not music, and Carey, who was looking over her shoulder and pointing out spelling mistakes. I sat on the floor leaning my head against the arm of the couch and watched them surreptitiously. She slapped his hand away when he tried to point at words and looked at him adoringly, it seemed. I was in the midst of wondering what that was all about when the front door opened. 

Clu and Fi were mid-conversation, reminiscing about something or other, no doubt. She was laughing, resting a hand on his arm, and he didn't mind the attention at all. I tried not to sulk as they called out greetings to everyone who happened to be in the house. I forced a smile and said, "Hey, guys. How'd you like the movie?"

Clu said, "It was awesome, man, I can't explain, but it was like" And he remembered suddenly who he was talking to, and he backed off, and my stomach twisted. "I mean, yeah. It was fine." 

Fi gave him a questioning look and glanced over at me and Annie and Carey before answering. "Yeah, it was good," she agreed, subdued again. "I'm gonna go check my e-mail."

"I'll go with you!" chirped Annie, grabbing her notebook back from Carey, who had been erasing words and writing in new ones with her pencil, and hopping off the couch before Fi could object, as I'm sure she wanted to do. 

So there we were, me on the floor, Carey on the couch, and Clu standing awkwardly in the hallway. He couldn't find an excuse to go somewhere else in the house, and I wasn't looking right at him but I could tell he didn't want to leave, either.

"Finally," Carey said, flipping on the television. A man in a stupid rubber mask was very slowly chasing some nubile teenage girl down a hallway. He sighed with contentment. I tried to summon all the courage I could find and stood up. "Hey, Clu." 

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to, um, talk, or something? Like, catch up?" I looked over at Carey, keeping my tone light just in case. He was engrossed in the movie, anyway.

"Sure, man." He smiled. We headed upstairs. But Annie was sitting on my bed playing video games. Did I give her permission to do that? I couldn't remember. It didn't matter. I wanted to tell her to get out. But I couldn't arouse suspicion. I looked at Clu and shrugged helplessly. 

"Hey, Annie," he said, like he was about to say something else, suggest that she go somewhere else, maybe.

"Hey, Clu."

"You want--"

"Oh! Clu!" She tossed the controller onto the carpet and grabbed his arm. "I wanted to show you something. In Fi's room. Come on!" She dragged him down the hallway. I flopped down on the bed face forward and wondered why I hadn't just told her in the first place. Then I remembered: because she would have told everyone, and that would be catastrophic.

But why would it have been catastrophic, back when it first happened or even now?

Mom would be fine with it, I was sure. And Carey obviously didn't care. I couldn't predict Ned and Irene's reaction, though. As for Fiona she was a different issue altogether. Was there a history I didn't know about? How could I not know? How could I be so stupid? Obviously, he came back to see her. What was I thinking? I groaned into my pillow just as Annie bounced back into the room. 

"Jack!" she hissed. "I got them together again!" 

I wanted to tell her. Oh, how I wanted to tell her. But I held my tongue and said, "That's great."

She beamed, so pleased that her plan was working out, and suddenly I was sorry for being relatively mean in the car. She could be so disarming at times, with her innocent cheer. I remembered the way she had been so happy downstairs, messing around with Carey and her songs. 

I said, "Hey, did I tell you I love your haircut?" 

"Yeah?" She touched it like she wasn't sure she liked it.

"You know who else does?" Her eyes widened. Was this really the right thing to do? He had seemed happy, too. Maybe that's why he hadn't wanted to talk about his love life. We had thought he might have something going on, or want to have something going on, with Fiona. But that idea was misguided, apparently, if he was helping Annie fix her up with Clu. So maybe my instincts had been wrong the first time. Maybe that was the real reason why he had invited her here in the first place! I nodded to myself and took a deep breath. "Carey," I whispered conspiratorially.

"Really?" she breathed.

"Yes. He told me."

After a few more minutes of that, she headed downstairs, cautiously buoyant. I locked my door and tried not to think about what was going on in the rest of the house. 


	6. 6

_you got to keep in the game  
retaining mystique while facing forward  
i suggest a reading of a lesson in tightropes  
or surfing your high hopes or adios kansas_

I couldn't be sure how much time had passed while I was lying on the bed staring at the ceiling. But when I finally dragged myself back downstairs to investigate the damage, it was dark. Fi, Clu, and Annie were hunched over the coffee table in the living room engaged in what appeared to be a fierce match of Scrabble. I wandered into the kitchen, where I found Ned and Irene chopping vegetables at the table. I sat in an empty chair across from Ned, and I must have looked as desolate as I felt, because Irene looked concerned and put a hand to my forehead. "Honey, are you feeling okay?"

Oh, sure. I'm feeling great. The love of my life, or so I'd like to pretend he isn't, is in there about to make the biggest romantic mistake of his life by pursuing my sister instead of pursuing me. I'm perfect. "Yeah," I said. "I'm fine."

"Good." She tossed a carrot and a peeler my way.

We worked quietly for a few minutes before the screen door slid open. Carey reached over Ned and grabbed a chopped carrot piece from the bowl in which Ned was depositing his casualties. Ned smacked his hand and he dropped it back in. "My hands are clean," he protested when Ned glared at him. 

He bent down behind me, whispering in my ear one simple word: "Annie?!"

"Why not?" I whispered back.

He just looked at me.

I laughed.

He patted my shoulder and returned to the back porch, sliding the door shut behind him. I could hear music, an unfinished song being worked out, by the sound of it. Lots of stops and starts.

After dinner, I was headed to my room when Annie grabbed me by the sleeve and attached herself to me as we walked up the stairs. "It didn't go so well," she confessed.

"I'm sorry."

"No," she said. "I'm sorry."

What? He hadn't told her, had he? How could he violate that kind of con--

"I shouldn't have jumped on that whole hair thing. I've just been kind of depressed lately. You see," she whispered, "I didn't come back here for you." I guess the look on my face must have misled her, because she said, "I'm really, really sorry."

"No, no," I assured her. "I'm just surprised. Who'd you come back for, then?" 

She blushed. "Zach," she said miserably. "Stewart? You remember?"

"That jerk with the magnets?"

"Yeah."

"Annie, he could have killed you with that little stunt."

"But he's really not that bad! I've been e-mailing him since he got out of the institution and wrote me a very sincere apology." She paused. "It's possible that the nurses made him write it, or maybe he was on his medication when he wrote it, because it didn't really sound like him, but anyway, we got to be good friends and I kind of--"

I interrupted her, in the interest of ending the conversation more quickly. "So have you seen him since you came back?"

"No. He's always 'busy.'" She rolled her eyes. "He just doesn't want to see me. So I thought that if I couldn't get what I wanted, maybe I could at least help Fi. And Clu. And Carey. And you!"

"Uh," I stuttered. "I don't really need any help with that, really, you don't--"

She just smiled mysteriously and lowered her voice. "I know your secret." Before I could protest that I didn't have one, she was gone as suddenly as she'd appeared.

Oh, no. Now what? Had he told her? Clu wouldn't have. He didn't even like her, so he certainly wouldn't trust her with that kind of information. 

I decided to lock myself in my room until morning.

But my plan was interrupted by a light knock on my door at about midnight. I thought I'd heard everyone say their good-nights a while ago. My heart sped up. Could it be? When I opened the door, I tried not to let the disappointment show. "Can I come in?" Mom whispered.

I opened the door and sat on the bed. "What's up?"

"You've been awfully withdrawn since you got home," she noted, folding her arms across her chest and leaning against the doorframe. "Always up here like you're hiding from something."

"I've just got some stuff going on," I said vaguely.

She looked mildly hurt, but covered it up quickly. "Okay, well, if you want to talk, you know, I'm just saying"

"It's not anything important. Just typical stuff." 

She nodded, and it looked like she was about to leave, but instead she paused. I looked at her expectantly. She bit her lip. "I feel like I should" She stopped. "It's just that Fiona's got all this going on that she doesn't want to talk about, and I understand that, you know, but I sort of expected that you might be more forthcoming about what's bothering you. I guess I just can't accept the idea that my children don't need me to fix things for them anymore."  
  
And I wanted to spill the entire story to her, tell her about one night four years ago that was either the biggest mistake I ever made or the best thing I ever did, tell her about why I had been on edge the entire time I'd been home, ask her for advice. But I couldn't. Not yet. I couldn't make myself say the words. I could think them, I could scream them inside my own head, but when it came to actually opening my mouth and letting it all out into the open I wasn't ready to let go of my secret, and it occurred to me that I might never be.   
  
"I swear, if I have a problem, I'll come and talk to you about it. But I really don't have one right now. It's been hard to adjust to this whole extended family thing after being at college. Fiona's probably having the same adjustment issues. But we'll be fine. I'm getting used to it again." I smiled reassuringly, and it seemed to work.  
  
After she left, I realized how guilty I felt for flat-out lying to my own mother. Even if it was for her own good. But I didn't have a choice, did I? It wasn't just my choice to make. It was his, too. I couldn't ruin both our lives without his consent, which I knew I wouldn't get, because I was the one who had demanded that the secret never get out. I was the one who pretended it was just something we did. I was the one who said it could never happen again. And now, four years down the road, I was the one who hadn't gone one single day without thinking about what it would be like if it happened again. And again, and again, and again  
  
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to find solace in sleep.


	7. 7

_it isn't very smart  
tends to make one part  
so brokenhearted  
_  
It didn't work, though. I kept thinking: Annie knows? How did she find out? Who is she going to tell? Who has she told already? Aren't I sort of relieved, in a way, that she found out, that I didn't have to tell her, and that I won't have to be the one to tell the people she's told or will tell? For hours my mind ran circles around those same themes, and when I woke up in the morning I was exhausted. At least, I thought it was morning. But a quick glance at the alarm clock revealed that it was indeed 5 o'clock in the afternoon. I showered and pushed myself downstairs, more nervous than I'd ever been. Would they look at me differently?  
  
No sign of Annie or Carey. No sign of Clu. Fiona was watching a movie on the couch. At least, the movie was on the television in front of her, but she was actually staring at the ceiling. She looked over and greeted me impassively.   
  
"What's up?" I asked tentatively.  
  
"Not much."  
  
"So where is everybody?"  
  
She sighed. "Mom and Irene are using the laptop to look around the Internet for something, I didn't ask what. Carey is at work. Annie is shopping. I don't know where Clu is. And I'm watching this movie." With that, she stared hard at the TV screen, and I got the picture and left her alone.   
  
One of these days I was going to have to ask her what was wrong. But I just didn't think I could handle someone else's issues in addition to my own right now. So instead I made myself a sandwich and I was headed back up to my room when Annie intercepted me yet again, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as usual. "Good morning, sleepyhead!"   
  
"Hey," I said warily.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"I was going to eat lunch and watch TV. What are you doing?"  
  
"Oh, I've been out all day," she said, and giggled compulsively, perhaps out of amusement at her own lame pun. "Anyway, would you mind doing me a favor?"  
  
What was this about? Blackmail? "Um, okay"  
  
"Good!"   
  
She shoved me into my room and closed the door behind me. "Stay!" she commanded. I stared at the closed door, bewildered.   
  
Soon, she returned with an armful of candles of all sizes, shapes, colors, and scents, and candle-holders. "I went to the craft store and got all these super cheap!"  
  
"Um, okay. Thanks?"  
  
"You just sit tight. Everything's taken care of." She winked at me, and then began placing candles on virtually every flat surface in the room. She sat cross-legged on my floor in front of my CD cabinet and started rifling through my collection. I sat tight, as ordered, and shut up, utterly mystified. After a few minutes, she wrinkled her nose and stood up.   
  
"You know, your CDs really suck. No offense. But, come on, who listens to sheDAISY besides, like, 12-year-old girls?"   
  
I opened my mouth and was about to defend myself-and the fine, upstanding musicians of sheDAISY-when she glanced at her watch and squealed. "It's almost time!" She ran around the room lighting all her new candles. "All right, now, you sit still, and I will deliver a certain person directly to you!" She ran away before I could say anything.  
  
But I finally understood the candles and the music and the "stay!"   
  
I swallowed hard. Had she told Clu? What could she have told him? How did she even know anything about it? Oh, God, what if she brought him here on some totally unrelated grounds, and now she was going to thrust him into the room and slam the door, and he would think that I set all this up I could see how she might think it was helpful, and I appreciated it, but this whole set-up had the potential to be completely embarrassing. I felt sick.  
  
Outside, I could hear voices raised. My wrists and my neck began to throb and my mouth went dry. The moment was finally here, the moment I had been planning and rehearsing since he left me that night four years ago, since I told him to go.   
  
The door swung open and, as predicted, someone was thrust into the room. I squinted. In the dim candlelight I could just make out a tall figure with dirty blonde hair.   
  
"You?" Carey asked incredulously.  
  
"Me?"  
  
"She said she knew my secret."  
  
"She said she knew mine, too."  
  
"So she thinks--"  
  
"That we're-" I stopped. Simultaneously we burst into laughter. "That poor girl. She tried so hard."  
  
"She really thought she had us figured out."  
  
I raised an eyebrow. "You have a secret?"  
  
"No," he replied nonchalantly. "But you certainly do, whether you want to admit it or not." He sat on the bed beside me. "Dude, why don't you just say it? To whoever you need to say it to. Say it to Clu, say it to everyone else, say it to yourself. Just get it out in the open."  
  
"That's easy for you to say," I muttered.  
  
"Yeah, well, do as I say, not as I do," he grinned, and was about to leave when Annie burst in.   
  
"You're kidding!" she exclaimed. "It didn't work?"  
  
"Sorry," Carey said through barely-stifled giggles, patting her on the shoulder.  
  
"But I saw you two in the kitchen last night!" She turned on Carey now, her tone accusatory. "And I heard you talking on the phone yesterday about how you couldn't tell anyone about--"  
  
"No you didn't," he cut her off.  
  
"And you! You've been mooning around up here almost the whole time I've been back. When I told you both that I knew your secrets, you got all jumpy. And, when you suggested him and Fi--"  
  
"That was your idea?" It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. I shrugged.  
  
"You told me that you thought he should be happy, and then when you"--she turned back on Carey now--"wrote me that e-mail, you said you wanted him to be happy, so I just thought"  
  
How could I be upset?  
  
"No, I get it," I assured her. "It was really sweet of you. But that's just not my secret."  
  
She looked completely crestfallen. I put an arm around her shoulders. "Look, you guys, I really do appreciate everything you've tried to do here."  
  
"What is it, then?" she asked suddenly.  
  
"Huh?" I decided to play dumb.  
  
"Your secret!"  
  
"I don't have one."  
  
"Yes, he does," Carey told her. I glared at him.  
  
She looked at me expectantly. I sighed. It was now or never, apparently, and I figured that it might as well be now. 


	8. 8

_still there's not a show on my back  
holes or a friendly intervention  
I'm just a little bit heiress, a little bit Irish  
  
a little bit tower of pisa   
whenever I see ya  
so please be kind   
if I'm a mess   
_  
"Stay here," I told them both.   
  
I ran downstairs and hoisted Fi off the couch, dragging her upstairs. "Have you seen Clu?"  
  
"He came over with Carey. He's in the kitchen. What do you want? I was watching--"  
  
I sprinted downstairs and grabbed him by the hand. When the five of us were gathered in my room, I turned the light on.   
  
"As many of you already know, I've got a secret. So do the rest of you. This state of affairs has led certain parties to make some very interesting attempts to help everyone else. But I think we'd all be happier if these little interventions stopped, so don't you think we should just get everything out in the open and say everything that hasn't been said yet? Okay?" I didn't bother to wait for any signs of agreement, which was probably best, because there weren't any. "Fi, you've been moping around all week. What's wrong?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "You really thought making out with Carey would solve all my problems?"  
  
"You made out with Carey?" Annie asked, almost gleeful at the prospect that one of the plots she helped hatch had worked.  
  
"No!" Carey said quickly.  
  
"Or Clu? I mean, no offense, you guys, but--"   
  
"You made out with Clu?" I interrupted.  
  
"That's not the point," she sighed.   
  
"So what is it?"   
  
"It has nothing to do with any of you! I've been waiting for a call or an e-mail about a job back home--I mean, back in Seattle. But, the person who was going to give me the job is probably not going to come through because he broke up with me right before I left, so I've basically been waiting for nothing."   
  
"Oh." I paused. "I'm sorry. I just put two and two together and assumed--"  
  
"I appreciate the effort. It was sweet."  
  
"Annie?" I asked. I already knew her secret; it wouldn't pain her to reveal it.  
  
"All right," she sighed dramatically. "I have a massive crush on Zach Stewart--yes, the magnet guy--and he hasn't called me back once since I've been home--I mean, back here. But I'm still hopeful! Conrad says--"  
  
"I'm sure he'll call," Carey told her nicely. She giggled.  
  
I turned on him. "And you? What's your secret?"   
  
"I don't have a secret," he said nonchalantly, avoiding eye contact with anyone. Even Fi perked up with sudden interest.  
  
Annie poked him. "You do too!" she accused.  
  
He relented. "It's kind of one of those things where someone else has to agree to tell first, because it affects them too. And I don't have permission." He stared meaningfully at me. Maybe he was right. Maybe this wasn't the best way to announce such a personal revelation. Not until I had permission. I cleared my throat. "Okay, well, I just remembered, I'm supposed to--"  
  
Carey helped me out. "Yeah, that's right, you said you would--"  
  
"Go downstairs and--"  
  
"Run an errand for--"  
  
"So I'll see you guys later!" I finished, and fled from the room. Stupid, stupid, stupid.  
  
"Hey, wait up," Carey called. "I'll go with you to do that, um, that thing."   
  
He slung an arm casually but firmly around my shoulders and led me to the back porch. "Just one last time, okay?" He grinned at me and slid the door shut. I waited. The prospect of running toward the fence, climbing over it, getting into my car, and driving far, far away was looking better with every second that passed. I could just imagine Clu's reluctance to talk to me. I mean, could I blame him? Were I in his shoes, I'd be staying inside, too. The door slid open and he stumbled out clumsily, like he'd been pushed.   
  
I blushed. "Hey, look, I'm sorry, I didn't know--"  
  
He stared at me and kept his tone uncharacteristically even. "Well, I'm here now. What is it that hasn't been said yet?"  
  
"I know it was stupid, what I said back then. I was just, you know, scared, of what you'd think of me, of what everyone would say. So I'm sorry."  
  
A pause. "I guess it's good you got that off your chest, then."   
  
"Yeah. Okay," I said quietly. I had been prepared for the worst. All this time, there had been a chance that he'd be majorly pissed off about the way I had treated him, and it looked like the worst-case scenario, as usual, was the one that was coming true. Oh well. It had been worth one last shot.  
  
"God, could it have taken you any longer?" he asked.   
  
And then his hand was on my neck and his lips were pressing against mine.   
  
"What do you think, it just goes away?"   
  
He kissed me again, more insistently this time.   
  
"I won't pretend that I've been, like, totally, um faithful, or anything," he confessed after breaking contact, "because it's not like I've just been sitting around waiting for you to call. But I knew..."  
  
And then there were questions. How could this end well? Even if we made it through the rest of the week, what would happen when it was time to go back to our respective homes? Would we tell everyone? Would we tell anyone? Which one of us would upend his life to join the other one, and would it be worth it?   
  
I tried hard to clear my mind, to stop worrying and just enjoy the moment, what I'd been waiting for for four long years.  
  
Then the answer became clear, vague and profound all at once: We would work it out.   
  
Okay.  
  
Later we snuck upstairs. I came back down a few hours after he'd fallen asleep. We had decided secrecy wasn't worth the effort, so we would just act like it was no big deal, which was true, and be prepared to deal with the consequences.   
  
In the dark kitchen, I poured myself a glass of milk and started thinking about how I wished I could figure Carey out, now. He had finally done exactly what I'd needed him to do, and I was so grateful for his interference. I wanted to help him now, to do for him what he'd done for me. But I had no idea who the source of his romantic angst could be. It wasn't Fi. It apparently wasn't Annie, either. It wasn't me, and it wasn't Clu--or at least, I hoped it wasn't. Perhaps, like Fi and Annie, he'd actually ventured out into the world and found a prospective mate. In that case, I couldn't help him at all.   
  
I finished my milk and rinsed out the glass, glancing out the window by chance. A familiar car sat in the driveway. Hm. I supposed Carey had ridden home with his parents and left Clu his car to drive home. Clu stirred when I carefully climbed back into bed, mumbling something about tubing and outsiders. "Hey," I whispered. "Are you awake?"  
  
His eyes were closed. "No."  
  
"I have a question."  
  
"Go for it, dude."  
  
"Is Carey seeing some girl in town now?"  
  
"Um, I'm not at liberty to say," he yawned, and found a clever way to distract me from that line of questioning.  
  
But later, I got to thinking. Did he ever leave this house? He was there every morning and every night, it seemed. What would happen when Fiona and I left again?   
  
And that song he'd played   
  
Could it be?  
  
No. No, of course not. And if it was, he was on his own. But it couldn't be. I was certain of it.   
  
I decided to mind my own business, and sighed contentedly with the self-assurance of someone who has finally gotten what he wanted, as shaky and uncertain as the future might have been.   
  
Who would have thought I'd ever get a happy ending?


End file.
